Dice
by headcasephile
Summary: Another one-bed motel cliche. Sorry.


Another day, another no-vacancy motel. Another night on a too-short rollaway cot while Little Miss Tiny-Britches got the enormous queen-sized bed of which she took up approximately one eighth. Ridiculous. But of course he couldn't ask HER to sleep on the cot. Heaven forbid. And of course she'd never let him use the remaining seven eighths of the bed.

No, stop with the mental pictures. Stop now. Just open the motel-room door, go in, and suffer through another night of knowing she's lying feet away and you can't touch her.

Fucking awesome.

* * *

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed working on her laptop, concentrating hard, and she didn't look up when he came in. He said "hey" and got a "hey" in response, followed by a "Sorry, I just need a few more minutes, be right with you".

He took advantage of her distraction to look at the whole of her, rather than trying to stay focused on her face as he usually did; partially out of respect and partially because he didn't want a bullet in his shoulder. The thin robe she wore was short enough to expose most of her legs, and it had fallen off one shoulder; his body reacted immediately to the sight of more of her skin than he was usually allowed to see. Her hair was tucked behind one ear, the light from the screen glowing on the exposed skin which begged his fingertip to trace a line from her bare shoulder up her neck...

He stopped that train of thought dead, switched on the TV and plonked down on the foot of the bed with his back to her, sighing.

* * *

A little while later, the show he was trying vainly to concentrate on ended, and he gave up and switched the set off. Hearing a small noise, he turned around to see that she had put away the laptop at some point, and evidently not wishing to disturb his doomed effort to watch TV, had fallen asleep right there on the bed, curled in a loose fetal position which highlighted the curve of her hip. The robe barely reached her mid-thigh, and he tried vainly not to run his eyes up and down her bare legs. She made another small noise, and shivered a little. It wasn't cold. He wondered what she was dreaming about. Her mouth moved slightly and her hand, rested wrist up beside her face, tensed momentarily. Something about the exposed wrist made her appear very vulnerable, and he felt a glow of love for this strong, indomitable woman, so helpless and childlike in sleep. His gaze was drawn down the naked skin of her neck and shoulder to where he could see a lot more cleavage than she would have knowingly shown. He couldn't help a small goofy smile from appearing as he took the opportunity to stare at what he knew he shouldn't.

Then her whole body quivered and a small moan escaped. He wrenched his eyes back to her face to see a frown creasing her brows, and then his heart stopped as she muttered what had to be his name. What was she dreaming? His imagination went into overdrive, but not for long, as she woke suddenly and gave a start at seeing him looking at her.

"I'm sorry" she mumbled sleepily "I must have dozed off. What were you saying?"

"You think I'm that boring I talked you to sleep?" he said in mock-hurt tones. "You were working, I was watching TV. I don't know when you fell asleep."

She blinked heavily. "What time is it?"

"Just gone nine. I need to write an email before I turn in; feel free to get in bed and go back to sleep. I promise not to take advantage of your unconsciousness to sneak in with you. The cot looks SO comfortable, after all" he added, sarcastically.

"Great, thanks for that." She matched his sarcasm. "Now I'm definitely not going to bed until I see you safely tucked up on the cot."

He smiled evilly. "Your funeral" he shrugged, before getting up to fetch his laptop.

* * *

The email finished, he was putting away the laptop when he heard her giggle. He turned to see that she was still laying in the same position, but with her right hand propping her head, and the other playing with something on the bed beside her. It looked like a pair of dice, but they were pink. He moved silently close enough to see the word 'suck' on the upturned face of one of the dice, before she picked them up and threw them again.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, mock-innocently.

She jumped and grabbed the dice guiltily, looking up at him with a 'caught-in-the-act' expression.

"Foreplay dice?" he questioned, eyebrows raised and failing to suppress a smile.

She looked down, embarrassed. "I was just looking..."

"Where'd you get 'em?" He was grinning broadly now.

She gestured vaguely to the nightstand. "They were in the... thing." She waved her hand again. "The drawer."

He noted that her brain didn't seem to be working at full speed. Interesting. He moved to sit on the bed beside her, and noticed that her eyes widened at his increased proximity. She moved her body back to increase the distance, and her head slipped off the propping hand, falling back onto the pillow. She transferred the dice to that hand, possibly to make it appear that she had meant to do that.

"May I?" he asked, but she just blinked stupidly at him. He reached over to the hand that held the dice, but she still didn't seem to realise what he was trying to do. Her hand rested palm-up, fingers loosely clasped around the dice. His fingertips gently opened her fingers, pushing them back flat onto the coverlet as his palm pushed into hers, and he felt her hand tremble. He stroked his fingertips down her fingers and smiled at the answering shudder, before picking up the dice and throwing them casually down next to her arm. Her eyes were drawn to them. They said 'lick' and 'neck'. His eyes flashed to her exposed neck and shoulder, and he heard her draw in a shaky breath.

"Yup, the mental images are certainly... entertaining" he mused, watching fascinated as she bit her lip and swallowed. He leaned closer and again saw her eyes widen. She was still lying back on the pillow, and could not back away. "So what was your favourite roll?" he tried to make his voice as suggestive as possible, a slight smile on his lips. This was going well, he thought. How much further could it go?

Her mouth opened and closed again as she stared at him, and then she swallowed again. "That's... kind of a personal question, don't you think?" she got out.

"Lucky we're such close friends then" he said, not taking his eyes from hers. Then he leaned in and whispered " _Friends share_ "

Shameless manipulation, he knew. The trust between them was the most important element of their relationship, adding great significance to any implication that she did not trust him enough to tell him something. She looked down and opened her mouth again. "I..."

"I'll go first" he offered, and picked up the dice. She took the opportunity to struggle up from her prone position and prop herself on her elbow. They both watched as he laid down 'lick', paused, and then placed the second dice to show 'breast'. She flushed, as her mouth opened. "What?" he asked, innocently.

She seemed to try to collect herself. "I... I'm just surprised. It's not what I'd have guessed."

"Oh? And what would you have guessed, may I ask?"

She looked at him defiantly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, given your extensive audio-visual library, I guess I would have assumed..." she paused, blushing and in a much quieter voice, though valiantly maintaining eye contact, said "...suck cock."

From the way his body reacted, she might as well have been doing it rather than saying it. He swallowed hard, and shifted his hips. She finally lost the battle to maintain eye contact.

"So..." he prompted. "What was your favourite roll?"

She blushed harder, still staring at her left forefinger where it was scratching distractedly at the bed cover. In a small voice she muttered "It's... the same as yours actually."

"You're kidding!" He smiled wickedly "Now THAT is fascinating..."

She shot a nervous look at his face. Until this point, the discussion could have been about general preferences. Very personal preferences, to be sure, but with no particular partner in mind. She could get away with pretending it was a discussion any pair of platonic friends might have. However, now that it was apparent the two of them shared certain of those preferences, the resulting mental images would naturally involve a very specific pairing, and she could not hide from that. He saw this knowledge cross her face as she bit her lip. He leaned closer, enjoying the effect this had on her breathing. "So..." he began, pausing to watch her pupils dilate "When you roll..." he continued, his voice as low and seductive as he could make it, "who are you picturing?"

She definitely had a deer-in-the-headlights look now. After a pause, she managed "No-one. An abstraction. Just... no-one."

But she wasn't fooling him. "I always know when you're lying, you know." He observed, smiling wickedly at her.

She looked down, blushing furiously. "Well, who are YOU picturing?" she shot back, defensively.

He allowed another pause to hang in the air, waiting for her to meet his eyes. When she did, what she saw there made hers widen. "Do you really have to ask?" he said quietly.

He saw her lower lip tremble as this sunk in. No more pretending.

He leaned in again. " _I dare you_ "

"Wha... what?"

"One roll. I dare you."

"I... you..." she seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"Just one. Could be an easy one..."

"But... it could..."

"Are you _scared_?" the wicked smile spread again.

"Of course not." The automatic response came to her lips before she realised its implications. His smile widened as he handed her the dice. Backed into a corner, she drew a shaky breath, and let them fall.

'Touch'

Their eyes met, naked fear in hers.

'Neck'

She let out the breath she was holding. Before she could start to wonder who was supposed to touch whom, he reached out and rested his fingers lightly on her naked shoulder, making her jump and draw in breath sharply. Then, as he'd been dying to do since he first entered the room, he ran his fingertips up her neck, loving the way she trembled under his touch. He stopped just behind her ear, and then stroked gently down her collarbone and back up, coming to rest with his hand cupped around the back of her neck. She felt so warm and soft. He almost lost it right then; his lips yearned for hers and without thinking he started to lean towards her, but she pulled away, breathing rapidly and looking bewildered. He pulled back at once, cursing himself. Keep it together, come on.

To break the moment, he picked up the dice. "My turn" he explained.

"You said one roll" she accused.

"Each. That's how it works" he invented wildly. He hoped she didn't know any better.

Again they both watched as the dice fell.

'Lick' and 'Ear'. Again her relief was almost palpable, and he too was relieved. There was only so far he could push her, and if she had got a roll that would force her to back out, the game would be over, and things would probably be awkward.

She was biting her lip and looking at him as if making up her mind. "If you're scared..." he offered, ostensibly as a way out, but really because he knew she couldn't help wanting to prove she could do anything he could.

He saw it had had the desired effect. She seemed to summon her courage, and shifted herself nearer to him until her face was at his shoulder. He couldn't see her expression anymore, but he could feel her nearness, setting his nerve endings on fire with anticipation.

Nothing happened. Had she chickened out? This was killing him.

Suddenly, he felt her breath on his ear and forgot how to breathe himself.

He had to hand it to her, she was brave; he knew she must be extremely nervous right now. How had he managed to get her into this situation? He thanked his lucky stars for aligning themselves just at the right time. Then he forgot everything when he felt her tongue connect with his earlobe. It tentatively traced the outside of his ear, and continued in a slow spiral inwards while his mouth dropped open and his legs went weak. Finally it dipped right inside, completing a circuit that sent electricity shooting right to his groin.

Fuck.

This had to stop right now, before he couldn't. Trying to calm his breathing, he managed to stutter out "Okay, dare completed. You win." And standing up, he stumbled over his own feet and staggered away from the bed, catching himself on the dresser. "Fuck."

She giggled, flooded with the happy-nervous after effects of adrenaline and relief at having successfully done something that scared her.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
